Mr. Dark 3 (Tamed #3)(14)

"What's that?"

Mark kissed the top of my head, and I could hear him inhale the scent of my hair deeply. "I think of you. The rest is easy."

* * *

Sophie

We got to the warehouse just after six in the morning. While I didn't think I'd be able to eat or drink anything, Mark insisted we have something on hand, so after leaving Mount Zion, we stopped at a convenience store to pick up some easy to digest groceries.

Mark didn't allow us to get anything with caffeine in it or anything overly greasy or dense. This, of course, eliminated about seventy percent of the store, and another fifteen percent was eliminated because it was cat food, motor oil, playing cards and the like. Still, we were able to find some juices, light fruits and packages of sliced chicken breasts that filled our needs. "I know you're cruising on nerves now," Mark said as we entered the warehouse, "but that's going to fade. You're going to start feeling hungry and thirsty eventually."

He was right, and by ten I'd already drunk one of the bottles of fruit juice. I kept glancing at the clock on the wall, while Mark made sure our video feed of the outside was clear. He'd install obscure video cameras around the building to monitor everything. He'd even set up cameras on the inside of the building just in case the Russians tried something unexpected.

Around noon we were as set up as we could be. "The tough part is going to be if this delivery is legit," Mark said. "I wish I could just say Hey, are you two Russian hitmen and shoot them, but we're going to need to be sure. It's one thing killing bad men, but it's something else entirely killing an innocent. I've went this long without doing that, and I'm not about to start now. Let's hope they are stupid and show guns outside."

We went down to the first floor, and I set up the M-14, which was my responsibility. Mark had originally thought to use the rifle himself, but he wanted me as far away as possible. By having me set up in a dim corner of the warehouse under some netting that from the outside looked like a pile of boxes, I could be safe. Or at least, as safe as I could be.

The beauty of the M-14 lies in its relative heaviness. The thick steel barrel and the wooden stock gave the rifle a lot of stability. Once I set the front part of the stock on the foam block I was using as a rest, it would fire straight and true. Since I only had to shoot less than a hundred feet, worrying about drop or anything like that was moot. Which was good, because while Mark had taught me about it, I was still a novice when it came to stuff like that.

I just had to aim at the belt line, hope that I could keep my nerve, and let the rifle take care of the rest. I took a quick view through the peep sight towards the cargo door, and nodded. If the delivery came when we asked, the interior of the warehouse would be in mostly darkness while the cargo door would be in relative shade. I wouldn't be blinded by glare.

"I'm ready," I said, coming out from behind the concealed position. "How're you looking?"

Mark's role was much simpler, but also much more dangerous. Answering the door, he carried with him a Desert Eagle pistol with Teflon coated armor piercing rounds. If he had to answer the door, he'd have the pistol with him next to his thigh underneath a long jacket. We were hoping however, that we could use the intercom system attached to the door to bring them in without it.

"Good to go. When they trigger the intercom on the outside, I can buzz them in. If they're hostile, they'll use that as a chance to burst through the door. If they do, shoot as soon as you can. But stay in your position, the first guy through is probably going to be spraying the room and not really giving a f*ck what's around. I'm going to be to the left the door, because it's the last place they see after initial entry. If your shot takes out the first guy, the second one will come through fast, and I'll take care of him. Just keep your fire contained and we'll be fine."

"Then why did you get something that shoots automatic?"

Mark took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. "In case I'm hit. You get those two and protect yourself. That's why you also have a backup weapon."

"Mark, you can't....."

He cut me off with a shake of his head. "Yes, I can. You know that. I'm good, but I'm not immortal."

I nodded, feeling tears come to my eyes unbidden. Before they could fall, he lifted my chin with his hand and gave me the same cocky grin he used whenever he was confident. "I'm not saying it's going to happen. In fact, I'm sure it won't today. But it could. If that happens, promise me you take them all out, and get your ass out of town."

"But what would I do then?"

Mark pointed upstairs. "You remember my smartbox? Login password is Sophie7891, all in lower case. In the documents folder is a read me file, password locked, same password. Inside is instructions on how to access every dollar I have, along with account passcodes. The backup is at Mount Zion in the belfry. Take that and your passport and disappear. The smartbox has all sorts of information in the files that can help you."

"When did you put this all together?" I asked, my throat burning as I thought of even the possibility of living without Mark in my life.

"Over the past few nights. Wasn't all that hard, most of it was just collating the information already on there."

Before he could say anything else I wrapped my arms around him, and we held each other. It was strange, a moment of intimacy while we waited for what we expected to be a deadly fight. After a moment, we let go of each other, and looked around. The area was quiet, and the tension started to creep into the air. "Let's go upstairs and get the food and stuff," Mark said. "We can hang out next to your position and wait."